


My Dreams Are Not as Empty

by Rrrowr



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Human Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-22
Updated: 2012-03-22
Packaged: 2017-11-02 09:07:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/367320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rrrowr/pseuds/Rrrowr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel made a deal with Crowley to become human. Dean is the first one he calls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Dreams Are Not as Empty

Castiel opened his eyes to a cracked ceiling and the sound of wind and a creaking house. He remembered smelling flowers when he’d first arrived (flowers and dry grass and the melting asphalt under the heat of a summer sun) but he could find only dust now. His senses were dulled.

He turned his head, resettling his cheek against the pillow as he sought out the shadow of his company at his bedside. “How long has it been?”

Crowley had his hands folded across his lap and his elbows on both armrests. He regarded Castiel with a raised brow. “A couple hours, give or take,” he said. “How does it feel?”

As he considered Crowley’s question, Castiel pushed himself up onto his elbows and looked around. The house they were stowed away in appeared as dusty as it smelled. Cobwebs littered the edges of it and dirt covered the hardwood floors. Even the duvet under Castiel had a layer of brown dust clinging to its surface. The only thing that seemed to be clean was the chair in which Crowley sat. 

It felt odd to move — odder than it had been when he’d been cut off from the Host last year. He itched to fly, but there were no wings to spread. He had only what he could see — hands, feet, and a very human body. It was a limitation he hadn’t considered before making his deal with Crowley, but he was willing to accept the consequence. Still, he took a moment to mourn being trapped to the earth in such a manner.

“Heavy,” he told Crowley. “And empty. Is that normal?”

“If mankind’s need to gorge themselves on a number of vices is any indication, then I would say yes,” Crowley said. “I honestly can’t wait until you find yours.”

Castiel smiled a bit and swung his legs off the side of the bed. “Do you expect me to sell my new soul in exchange for a vice?”

Crowley’s fingers pulled at a chain necklace around his neck and lifted it to reveal a spherical glass pendant. Its contents glowed and swirled like smoke and water set on fire and Castiel winced when it pulsed. Crowley chuckled. “You’ve done it once,” he said as he tucked the pendant back under his shirt. “I hazard a guess you’d do it again if I made it worth your time.”

“Take care not to break that,” Castiel warned. “It might not kill the King of Hell but—”

“I think I can handle it,” Crowley cut in. “Now I think that’s the last of our business here, unless you have any further requests. Booze? Women? A lift to the Winchesters?”

“No,” Castiel said. “I can manage from here.”

Crowley looked Castiel up and down with a dubious twist to his mouth. “Suit yourself. You know how to reach me if you change your mind.”

In a heartbeat, Crowley was gone. Castiel got to his feet, feeling a bit unsteady, and put his hands on tables and walls and door frames for support on his way outside. The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon in the distance and Castiel squinted to make out its shape before taking a seat on the edge of the porch.

He was tired and hungry — two things he hadn’t been willing to tell Crowley — but didn’t feel the desire to ease those feelings just yet. They were human feelings and he’d wanted them as a kind of proof. As much as he would like to treasure having them at all, he knew he would not last long if either were allowed to endure, so he fished his phone out of his pocket. It had a little power left by the grace of God and only one number programmed.

As far as first decisions as a human went, Castiel was pretty sure making this call was a good one.

The line rang and rang and rang and at last, it stopped. Though no one spoke, Castiel knew that Dean was listening — angry still, probably, and maybe a little afraid. It was only to be expected. The last time they’d seen each other, Castiel had been trapped in a circle of holy fire while Crowley and his legions approached.

“Hello, Dean,” he said. “I could use some help.”

The words were as difficult to say as they’d always been, but once they were out, it was relief and pain and fear all at once. Castiel wished he could treasure each of the feelings on their own, but they were so intertwined that it was impossible. Each melted into the other, rising like a tide and giving way while another surged to take its place. Being human was incredible — tumultuous and haphazard, but still incredible.

Castiel had no hopes that Dean would actually be willing to help, but it would be good to know one way or the other. He wondered if the familial sentiment Dean had placed on his shoulders those many months ago was still worth something or if Dean had redacted it in the wake of the decisions Castiel had made until now. He had made his plea now — too late perhaps; it was now up to Dean whether it meant anything.

Dean’s voice was tinny through the small speaker. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, sure, Cas. Where are you now?” Castiel told him and listened as Dean relayed the address to Sam. “Listen, you stay there and you wait for us, y’hear?”

“Okay.”

“Don’t move a goddamn muscle.”

Castiel picked up Sam in the background, happily proclaiming that they were only a few hours out. He said, “I hear you, Dean.”

“We’ll be there soon, Cas.”

Castiel was struck by an inexplicable fondness and for a moment, he cradled the phone against his cheek with both hands. “I’ll be waiting.”


End file.
